Melted Ice
by madame.alexandra
Summary: Abby is upset because she doesn't like the way Jenny treated the team while Gibbs was trying to save Maddie Tylor. Gibbs has a few placating words for his favorite, a little insight to Jenny, so to speak-and a third party just might overhear. You know, a one-shot about the Ice Queen (it's not as sexy as the title makes it sound). Jibbs. Tag to Requiem.


_A/N: Let's play 'How Many Times Can A Jibbs Author Use the Ice Queen Trope Before It's Tired'? I like metaphors and shit. This takes place around Season 5 Episode **'Requiem'.** So, you know, keep Season 5 happenings in your mind (post-Frog, post-Colonel Blonde, pre-Illness, but a hint of that is vaguely present, obviously). _

* * *

"Abby."

Gibbs finally put his foot down, a mixture of annoyance and bemused curiosity on his face. She stopped pacing and bit down on her thumbnail, looking at him uncertainly—she had been shuffling back and forth in front of him, her chained skirt jingling vaguely, for close to ten minutes. She had called him down here, and when he arrived, she had greeted him, and then fallen mysteriously silent. He usually waited for Abby to speak, but for once, Abby wasn't speaking voluntarily.

She blinked at him anxiously.

"What's buggin' ya?" he asked.

She made a noise under her breath and pulled her hand away from her mouth, crossing her arms across her breasts. She tilted her head.

"Well," she began morosely. "Well, Director Shepard is," she answered finally.

Gibbs' brows moved slightly, expressing mild surprise. He didn't say anything for a moment; unable to remember any interaction Abby'd had with Jen lately that would have upset her.

"Why?" he asked finally.

He didn't know if he was being asked to mediate in a roundabout wait or—

"Nothing," Abby decided, and went back to pacing.

He snorted, and reached out, taking her shoulder.

"Abs," he said gently. "What did she do?"

"Um," Abby muttered uncertainly, still trying to pace. He held her firmly in one spot. "Nothing, Gibbs," she reiterated. "She did _nothing_."

Gibbs glared at her, noticing the emphasis she put on the word. He was on the brink of growling at her to tell him more, but Abby whirled towards him, clasped her hands and went on of her own accord.

"It's just," she began, her eyes shining angrily. "It's just—yesterday, when you went to find Maddie, and when you were trying to help her," she paused, frowning a little. The elevator in the hallway pinged. "She—Director Shepard, not Maddie—she was just so _cold,"_ Abby accused. "She kept berating you, and when you were gone she was kind of mean to us. It's like she didn't get that you were trying to help your daughter's friend, and there was nothing wrong with that?"

Abby frowned, and shook her head, picking up steam.

"It's not just that one time, Gibbs, she's like that _all_ the time; she's just _cold_. She acts like she doesn't remember you were her partner and partners aren't supposed to just _not care_. I mean I tried to hug her once when she was upset and she just shouted at me," Abby trailed off.

Gibbs put his hand over her clasped ones.

"Abby," he said, placating her.

"What, Gibbs?" she asked, glaring a little. "Don't tell me you don't see it!"

"Abby," he said again, calmly. "It's fine."

She huffed at him.

"I'm not pissed about how she treats _you_, Gibbs, you obviously like it, and you can take care of yourself," she said, as snappishly as Abby had ever gotten with him, "but I don't like it when she's cold to me, or to Tony, not after what she put him through!"

"DiNozzo made his own choices," Gibbs reminded Abby gruffly. "Abs," he said, hesitating. "Jen is…ah. You've got it wrong," he said simply.

"I do not," Abby insisted. "She's an ice queen. She'd shatter if you pushed her over. Maybe she'd melt in a little sunlight."

"Jesus, Abs," muttered Gibbs, arching his brows. He sighed heavily, and was vaguely aware that the elevator had gone off minutes ago, and no one had walked in yet. "She's under a lot of pressure," he said.

"So?" Abby asked obstinately. "Kate did too, and she wasn't a bitch. I have pressures."

Gibbs arched his brows warningly.

"Does everyone you face think you slept your way into your position?" he asked.

Abby faltered.

"No," she answered.

Gibbs gave her a look.

"Look, Abs, I know she's not what you're used to, but Jen's," he trailed off briefly. "She's got a certain reputation to uphold. Cut her some slack. She has to be taken seriously. And she's not," he paused, and snorted, "she's never been a fairy princess. She's very good at her job, and she's probably been told one too many times that there's no crying when the boys are around—and she works with a lot of boys."

Gibbs shrugged.

"She's not cold because she doesn't feel."

Abby frowned, tilting her head.

"But was she always _so_ cold, Gibbs?" she asked earnestly.

Gibbs stepped back a little, recoiling, shaking his head. He wasn't going to talk about her with Abby, or anyone—but Abby grabbed him and pulled him back, her green eyes pleading.

"I'm sorry I said mean things about her," she said sincerely. "Please," she begged. "What did she used to be like?"

Gibbs shook his head, his jaw set. He glanced towards the open door of the lab, and smiled tightly.

"The same," he said gruffly. "Then different," he added, vaguely. "She laughed a lot."

Abby smiled, biting her lip. She touched Gibbs' cheek.

"Maybe you were her sunlight."

Gibbs rolled his eyes uncomfortably. He leaned forward and pecked Abby on the cheek.

"Go home, Abs," he said gruffly. "It's late," he reminded her.

He left the lab abruptly, leaving Abby whirling around, thinking and turning off the machines, and he wasn't surprised when he had to sidestep Jen when he turned on his way to the elevator. She was leaning with her head and hip against the wall, and she abandoned whatever she'd wanted with Abby and followed him instead to the elevator.

He said nothing to her, and she said nothing to him, until the doors trapped them in.

She smiled bitterly.

"I always knew I hadn't quite charmed Abby."

Gibbs was silent for a moment.

"Eavesdropping's like reading minds. Never hear what you want to," he retorted curtly.

She tilted her head.

"You knew I was standing there?"

He shrugged.

"Heard the elevator go off. When no one came in, figured it was you. You didn't want her to know you heard her bitchin'."

Jenny leaned forward and smacked the emergency stop. The elevator jolted, paused, and the lights dimmed, and she turned to him, one arm slung across her middle, holding a file marked _forensics_ to her chest.

"Did you say the things you did because you knew I could hear you?" she asked boldly.

He grit his teeth.

"No."

"You meant them?"

He turned and looked at her, long and hard. He nodded.

"You did use to laugh a lot, Jen," he said quietly.

She smiled, shakily.

"You used to make me laugh."

He smirked dryly, and leaned against the elevator wall.

"Don't tell me I was your _sunlight_," he drawled, mocking Abby's saccharine words.

Jenny tilted her head back.

"It wouldn't sound so stupid if it was written instead of spoken," she said softly.

He just looked at her appraisingly. She looked back, and then lifted one shoulder.

"Thank you," she said politely, in a small voice. "For defending me. I'm sure I haven't made it easy," she quipped.

She pushed her short, blonde-streaked red hair off of her face, brushing at the bangs wispily, and leaned forward, her fingers running over the emergency stop switch, hesitating. He reached out and ran his hand down her arm, meeting her fingers at the switch.

"Your hands are cold," he remarked mildly, his voice right next to her ear.

She slipped her fingers into his brashly, sliding soft smooth skin against calloused, and looking for the moment at the interlocked effect.

"Better?" he asked, whispering in her ear.

She turned to him fiercely, and he put his other hand against her neck almost reverently.

"Jethro—" she breathed, startled.

Did he know—somehow—that she'd had so many regrets lately?

She raised her eyebrow at him, and laughed in her detached way—that way Abby would call cold.

"You think you can _melt_ me?" she asked with light sarcasm.

He tilted her head back, ran his thumb over her bottom lip, and leaned closer—

* * *

_I thought ending it like that would be fun, suckers.  
xoxo_

_-Alexandra  
story # 129_


End file.
